The Heart That Gives, Gathers.

Of The Crow-blue Mussel Shells, One Keeps Adjusting The Ash Heaps; Opening And Shutting Itself Like An Injured Fan.

... Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads In Them ... ... If You Demand On One Hand, The Raw Material Of Poetry In All Its Rawness And That Which Is On The Other Hand Genuine, Then You Are Interested In Poetry.

Honesty - However Dangerous - Should Be As Valuable As Radium It Seems To Me.

The Passion For Setting People Right Is In Itself An Afflictive Disease.

You Are Not Male Nor Female, But A Plan Deep-set Within The Heart Of Man.